story rocks

Finally listed something I have been meaning to for months...
some story rocks...
A set of rocks with images drawn on each side in a handpainted muslin pouch....
all in white but I think the next one will have images in color, maybe on  clay "rocks" ...

First here's my bit from the etsy listing.....

"A simple pouch...
and some pretty river rocks....
some time to kill...
all add up to more than just a simple way to encourage creativity,
and pass the time you would have wasted in line,
in the drive-through
or waiting for your food in a restaurant.
They add up to making memories with someone special.

Carry this little pouch in your car or purse and pull it out when you need to entertain your children, (or yourself). Just have them pick three stones, and make up a story to go with the three chosen stones. If you are stuck for ideas, you get one "flip over", to turn a rock over to have an alternate image to use. If you think you aren't creative enough to do this you are wrong, and practice DOES make it easier. JUST TRY IT! If your kids are a bit older let them make up a story for you. Your kids might enjoy making little books to write their stories in. "

My story for you....Not an amazing story but just a simple story that came up after randomly picking out these three rocks.... you get the idea....
The CRESCENT MOON, the HOOT OWL, and the SLICE OF WATERMELON
     On the night of the CRESCENT MOON, deep in the middle of a long dark winter... a small boy with brown hair, and eyes so black they looked like midnight, sat up in bed because he thought he heard something strange. The boy was tired and lonely. He had been laying in bed wishing for a friend to talk to, someone who would really listen.

      He shivered in the dark of his room, listening for the strange sound, and suddenly he heard it again. It was a HOOT OWL. Outside his window, calling out to the young boy over and over. whooo. whoooooo. whooooooooooooo.

       The little boy was drawn to the window, and pried it open to hear the song better. A cold gust of winter air swirled in, along with some snow sparkling in the little sliver of moonlight. whooo. whooooo. whooooooooo. And, in flew the owl, who landed right on the boy's bed. It sat there, on top of the purple quilt the boy's grandmother had sewn for him as a baby, blinking it's big wide eyes at the enchanted boy.

      It was as if the boy could read the owl's mind because he felt sure the owl was asking for some food. It had been a winter of deep snow, and all the animals were struggling to find food. But the boy had no idea what an owl ate. He ran to the kitchen anyway and without turning on the kitchen light he rummaged through the open refrigerator, finding only a single SLICE OF WATERMELON his dad had cut for his breakfast the next morning. 

     The little boy grabbed the watermelon, hoping is father wouldn't mind, stumbled back up the stairs to his room, and placed the plate of watermelon on the bed in front of the owl, who immediately started eating nibbles of the pink fruit. He appeared to love watermelon. After 5 minutes of eating and eating, the owl looked back up at the boy, tilted it's head to say thank you, made a small owl noise that is impossible to spell out in a story, and flew back out the way it had came. 

     The boy and owl became friends on that night, and the owl came back often, eating nibbles of fruit and nuts from the boy's hands over time. 

     Each night they told each other stories without words.... and both of them were very good listeners.